My oldest brother died last Tuesday, July 22. Since then I have been tossing thoughts around in my head. I knew I had to write something. I just didn’t know how or what I wanted to say. It is complicated.

As adults, we had very little to no relationship. I would say polite contact, the past few years it revolved around our aging mother. She passed away four years ago and since then pretty much nothing. I would send him a message on his birthday. Sometimes he would respond, but usually not.

I often questioned myself why I even attempted to stay in touch, because as a child I was abused by him and the other one too. I guess mostly I wanted some kind of resolution to the past, but I feel he wanted to forget it, sweep it under the rug, hide it in the closet. That’s where a lot of family secrets go.

There were a lot of family secrets and dead bones in our family. I’ve written about them before. This post – https://emyloomwordswovenwithinmyheart.com/2020/09/10/sexual-abuse-teen-moms-and-family-curses/ – questions whether these acts were a curse on our family line. If so why is the girls who suffer the lifelong side effects?

When I was little, I looked up to him. He was five years my senior, handsome and smart. The abuse started when I was maybe 10 years old. It continued until he left for the marines at age 18. He went on to “make” something of his life, I guess. He had a long career in the Marines; started as a private and moved up to warrant officer and then a commissioned officer. After the Marines he went back to school and got a teaching degree. He taught handicap children and from what I heard from my mother, he was highly loved and respected.

Good for him but he never wanted to put the past to rest. He never addressed what happened. I know he did not have an easy childhood. He was 5, 6 maybe even 7 when he witnessed verbal and extreme physical abuse by our alcoholic father on our mother. Were we all just damaged goods and we damaged each other?

The last time I was in the city where he lived I texted him to see if he wanted to meet. It was four years ago actually, just after our mother passed. He didn’t attend her funeral, but my mother had told me he was sick and she would understand. She had been telling me he was sick for years, and she understood why he never came to Texas to see her. Anyway, he didn’t want to see me then either, not even for coffee. He told me he wasn’t “public ready” and declined to meet.

So why did I make all these attempts? Maybe I wanted some closure, some explanation, some sign of remorse, hoping for some request for forgiveness? Anyway it is not coming now.

The Friday before he passed his wife called to tell me that his days were short. She said he requested very little but asked her to call and let me know. OK, she let me know. Was it an effort on his part to reach out before he died, to settle the past? Evidently not. I wrote back and asked if he wanted me to come see him, but recalled that he did not want to see me in 2021. I told her if she thought it was appropriate she could tell him that,

“I always loved him and I release him from any harm or hurt from he past. I only want this journey to be peaceful and full of joy on the other side when he is reunited with mother…”

Not forgiveness but letting go.

I did not hear back from her until Tuesday. She sent a text that said, “Andy passed away this morning.”

This all left me with so many mixed emotions. There is nothing left to resolve on this side. I want to move on. I am sad and angry at the same time. Tears may have welled up for a moment but I did not even cry. I wondered was his passing even worth my tears? It sounds harsh, mean and cold. However, he lived his life and I lived mine and his is over now.

One side note about my brother. He was born the same day as Princess Anne, Queen Elizabeth’s only daughter. He died the same morning as Ozzy Osbourne. What a contrast.